Nancy and Matt
by Mr. Invincible
Summary: What happens when Percy and Annabeth meet Percy's bullies from the past? Reintroducing Nancy Bobofit and Matt Sloan.
1. Nancy Bobofit

**Cause I never finish one story before moving on to another one…**

**Anyway, as the description says, this is about Nancy and Matt meeting Percabeth later on in life. It's probably going to end up as a two-shot.**

**Disclaimer: PJO belongs to Rick Riordan. Not sure who owns the cover image.**

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Nancy Bobofit, ex-kleptomaniac, was, ironically, a bank teller at the Bank of America. Granted her father had pulled a few strings for her, she had managed to keep up the standards. At least she hadn't been fired…yet. She had lasted longer here than her old job as a library assistant.

So, at the grand age of twenty-three, she was dishing out money in front of a counter. The salary was decent enough for someone without a college diploma, the job only requiring having only graduated high school. But, it also required something that Nancy didn't have: people skills. True to her middle school nature, she had yet to learn how to be friendly. Apparently pelting a customer on the back of the head with a roll of quarters was deemed worthy of a probation warning.

Well, with her father's support of the bank, they would have issues if they attempted to rid her of the job. Nancy leaned back on her seat, propping her feet on the counter. This resulted in her receiving a pointed glare from the hawk-eyed older lady in the cubicle behind her. Whatever, it didn't matter. There were no bank customers at ten in the morning on a Saturday.

"I'm going out for a bit," she declared, standing up.

Her superintendent, a pot-bellied man, stood up, his face red with impatience, "Ms. Bobofit, I expect you to sit back down this instance."

"Chill man," she replied, grabbing her purse.

"Ms. Bobofit!" his anger rising by the second, knowing that he was in no position to question the bank benefactor's daughter, "You are required to stay until lunch break."

"Yeah, whatever man," she rolled her eyes, trying to sidestep the man when a small little bell ringing indicated that a customer had entered. Both turned to look at the door, spotting a young, blond woman. The superintendent gave Nancy a glare, signaling her to get back to her seat. Nancy replied with a look that said, 'you owe me.'

The blonde approached the counter with a slight smirk playing on her lips, as though she had noticed the tense exchange between the two. Nancy internally scowled. She got a better look at the blonde, noticing that they were about the same age, give or take a year.

Her blond hair was curled perfectly but looked natural, unlike the results one gets when using a curling iron. Trust Nancy, she knew what she was talking about. The other girl's make up was minimal yet suited her. She was gorgeous, no denying it, especially with that tan. It wasn't one of those oompa-loompa tans that one gets while in Jersey.

And the fact that she dressed professionally in pencil skirt and white blouse with a light blazer on top somehow rubbed Nancy the wrong way. But, she didn't dare say anything. The girl's intense, intimidating gray eyes were enough to get anyone to shut up. Even big-mouth Nancy.

The girl cleared her throat, snapping Nancy out of her thoughts, "Uh, sorry… Can I help you?" Nancy could feel the superintendent's shocked face behind her. She, Nancy Bobofit, had apologized. She sent him a middle finger to effectively shut him up.

"I'm here to get a loan under Annabeth Chase," the blonde said without a hint of hesitation, rummaging through her handbag to pull out perfect, un-crumpled papers. She placed them on the counter. That's when Nancy noted the simple engagement band on her left hand ring finger. Annabeth looked back at the door as though expecting someone.

Seeing Nancy's questioning glance, she replied with a small, unamused smile on her face, "My fiancé should be here, but he's generally late. Though I did tell him it was important to be here on time."

By then, Nancy had pulled out the forms required for documentation, "Sign here, here, and here." Annabeth did so accordingly. The two then just stood awkwardly. Annabeth broke the awkward eye contact by going through the terms and agreements in the documents in front of her. But, that didn't take long, resulting in another match of "let's not stare at one another."

And finally, the door opened. Nancy thanked whichever god it was that saved them from the increasingly uncomfortable situation. The man rushed to the counter with something in his hand. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Annabeth didn't respond, turning away slightly.

He looked familiar, but Nancy couldn't place where she had seen him. It wasn't until he faced her did she gasp. If Annabeth was gorgeous, this man was breath-takingly beautiful. If beautiful can be used to describe a man. He had blue-green eyes, predominantly green, framed with thick black lashes. His hair too was as dark as a tar road…Not the most flattering description, but he was beautiful. Nancy stared openly as the couple had a stare down.

The man made the first move, "I'm sorry I'm late?" He shrugged his shoulders, not sure of his fiancée's response.

"I told you to be on time," she replied tapping her foot with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Here, have a chocolate," he dug into his pocket, offering her one.

Annabeth pushed aside his hand though she grinned a little, "No thank you."

"I forgot the papers at home? So I had to go get them?" he tried again, trying to phrase them as question.

"Just sign the damn papers, Perce," she let out a small chuckle, almost unnoticeable. Well, Nancy didn't notice it, preferring to stare at those lips, imagining what it would feel like against her own. She leaned forward…

"Excuse me," the man interrupted her daydreams about him, "Can I have the papers?"

Nancy pushed forward the clipboard with the documents and a pen. He pulled out a pen from his own pocket which was engraved, _Riptide_.

He finished signing the documents, "I assume Annabeth read all these twice over, so there's no need for me to bother myself and read them." Annabeth rolled her eyes at her fiancé, leading him away from the counter and towards the door. Nancy looked over the papers, making sure everything was correct. She looked at the chicken scrawl of a signature, trying to make out the name.

It wasn't until the couple had left the building when the bricks came tumbling down and hit Nancy in the face. Metaphorically of course. The building didn't actually collapse, but it might have just as well have.

After thirteen long years, she had seen Percy Freakin' Jackson. Damn. What a change.

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**Coming up next is Matt Sloan.**

** I will be updating_ The Green Eyed Marine_ in the next two weeks. I've started the epilogue, so it shouldn't be too long. **

**Anywho, till then, review/fave/follow. **

**~TJ**


	2. Matt Sloan

Matt Sloan. Rich kid who took his dad's car out for a spin when he was in middle school. Jock in high school. Bedded most nearly anything of the female species with two legs. Notorious bully. And above all, now a reformed criminal. Hopefully.

He had it coming to him considering he wasn't the brightest. His drug dealing business had gone down the drain senior year, just weeks before graduation. Not that he had particularly cared; he had his father's money after all to support him.

But that's where he had been wrong. His father had decided to cut off ties until Matt learned his lesson about money and its value. Matt had scoffed at the remarkably stupid idea (in his opinion) proposed by his father. Yet, when Mr. Sloan had terminated his bank account and any access to it, Matt admitted that he was slightly scared. With no stable income to support his life after serving jail time, Matt was stuck in one of those youth hostels in New York. He got his steady dose of pot from these sketchy neighborhoods with his barely above minimum wage salary from Mickey D's.

His job was routine and monotonous. Get to work by nine in the morning, leave by five. He was in charge of the clean-up crew, occasionally having the grand privilege of working the counter. And this particular day, boy was he glad he didn't have to clean up that family of six's mess.

While waiting on the frozen McNuggets to be reheated, he decided to take the next customer's order. A bright eyed young man about his age, a college student sporting an NYU sweatshirt, looked at the menu. His untamed, messy black hair seemed familiar. That's right! Harry Potter. That nerdy, four-eyed, scrawny character that amassed the supports of geeks everywhere.

Matt almost called the customer Mr. Potter before stopping himself. "Can I help you?" he finally drawled, noting that the man was taking a particularly long time to choose from the ten or so options on the menu.

"Uhh…Can I get a Big Mac, a Deluxe Quarter Pounder, and a Bacon McDouble, and a Crispy Premium McWrap Southwest…oh, and a large fries!" the man said, rushing out his order.

"Will that be all?" Matt asked skeptically. There was no doubt that the other man was well-built, but he was lean. There was no way he was going to eat all that.

The green-eyed man looked thoughtfully, his face lighting up if he remembered something, "Right, almost forgot. Two large cups for soda, a twenty piece McNugget set, a McFlurry, and a Premium Bacon Ranch Salad with Grilled Chicken."

Matt almost snorted derisively. Like the salad would ease any guilt of eating the remainder of the junk food. The total came to some exorbitant price in the thirties; the man dropped the remaining change in the little bottle by the cash register for tips. Matt felt an unreasonable peak of anger. He didn't need the pity, but he doubted that the man gave him money out of pity. It was a hassle to carry around loose change as he once knew.

Within five minutes, the man grabbed the two trays containing his order and proceeded to one of those booth seats by the window. Matt turned back to help the next customer.

It hadn't even been ten minutes since Matt's last distraction when a new one walked in. He let out a low whistle glancing at the long lean, tanned legs of the babe that had just walked in. Eleven out of ten would do so he thought in his mind. She had shorts that were mid-thigh length and her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had on a Yale University crewneck. And from Matt's minimal knowledge of Yale, he knew she must be smart despite her resemblance to a stereotypical California chick.

He was disappointed when she turned and headed for the booths instead of placing an order. He had been staring at her so intently that he had forgotten his next few customers, resulting in a fuming boss. So, when he got assigned to clean up duty. He wasn't all that upset. He could go perhaps strike up a conversation with the blonde.

So, he pushed the mop and soapy water ensemble to the booth section of the restaurant. Yes, it was technically considered a restaurant. To his surprise, there were only two people in that area. The blonde and Mr. Harry Potter. What was even more surprising was that they were sitting in the same table.

He began wiping down the tables in the vicinity, catching a few words from their conversation. From what he gathered, the two hadn't seen each other in a while going to different colleges. There wasn't anything particularly weird about their conversation. They just seemed so normal. A really normal, good-looking pair of friends.

But that's when they started holding hands across the table and conversations became increasingly weird. The blonde started talking about Greek architecture. Who even did that? The black haired boy nodded absently to the girl's talks, feigning excitement. He sported an amused look on his face as he said out loud, "Annabeth, your Athena is showing."

Dafuq? What was Athena? Were they even speaking English?

The blond, presumably Annabeth, stuck out her tongue at the boy in a mature manner. "Shut up Percy. So, tell me about school. How's Econ 101 treating you? You were in tears during midterms when you called and pleaded for my help."

"I was not!" the boy now identified as Percy protested weakly, his cheeks tinted a light pink in embarrassment. Matt mused over this. Percy. He had known a kid named Percy in middle school, but he had disappeared after conveniently blowing up the school. Turns out he was a criminal worse than Matt himself. He was always in the news. Probably a part of some terrorist group.

The girl simply rolled her eyes as she dipped a fry into some ketchup. As she lowered the fry into her mouth, Matt watched as though it was in slow-mo as her facial expression changed to one of pure horror as she glanced back down at the container with the fries.

"Percy, kill it! KILL IT! Kill it now before it lays eggs. I could have eaten that."

"Annabeth, calm down, calm down. It's ok," he soothed her as he grabbed a fork, stabbing something in the thing that held the fries. He noted Matt's curious glance in their direction, motioning for the employee to come his way.

Percy gave Matt a once over and then gestured to the fries with his fork, "There was a freaking spider in her food."

"I can get you more fries if you want," Matt said, trying to appease the customer as he had learned at training. Always please the customer.

"Please," the blonde said, "You think we'd want more fries after that." Matt got his first glance at the girl's face up close. It was terrifyingly beautiful with stormy gray eyes which bore into his own. His legs turned to jelly at the sheer intensity of her glare.

A finger snap startled him out of staring at her. He saw the man looking at him with some amusement, "Dude, quit looking at my girlfriend like that. Just clean up the mess. And get us a refund."

"It was just a spider," Matt began weakly.

"And if I'm allergic to spiders, is it just a spider?" the girl asked coldly.

"Wise Girl, cut him some slack. It isn't his fault that he works at this dump." The blonde huffed, blowing away hair falling onto her face and crossed her arms, "Well, I won't move until I speak to the manager regarding pest control here."

"He's not here," Matt sputtered out, surprised at his sudden inability to hold a conversation. He was normally the one with confidence, turning girls into putty in his hands.

Percy put his face in his hands, "Annabeth, c'mon. Let's just leave. It's totally not worth it."

"But—"

"No buts. It's a waste of time, and we haven't seen each other in weeks."

"Fine."

Percy handed Matt his card when they were at the register. Annabeth was insistent on the refund. Matt squirmed, realizing this was coming out of his paycheck. It was in fact his fault. He had been in charge of calling pest control last week.

As he swiped the card, he noted the name on it. It struck him like lightning. Percy Jackson. That freak from middle school. He looked at the other boy who had his arm wrapped around Annabeth's waist, chuckling at something the girl had said. The Percy from his mind bore no resemblance to the man in front of him now.

That weak scrawny kid who hung out with the loser orphan had now filled in quite a bit with a girlfriend while he, Matt, slept in more or less the slums of Manhattan.

"Percy Jackson?" he said. The boy came forward to take the credit card. There was no hint of recognition in his green eyes. Matt continued to stare involuntarily.

Percy must have felt the gaze get to him as he asked, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Merriweather Prep," he said, trying to jog Percy's memory.

The latter frowned, "Matt Sloan…Should have known. That chipped tooth."

Annabeth jeered beside him, "You mean the guy I beat up." Matt did a double take. It was her. The day when Percy blew up the school. She had been around, having appeared suddenly out of nowhere.

Percy just looked uncomfortable at the idea of meeting someone from his past, "How are you doing I guess?" The question fell silent as the two realized their current situation. Why else would a rich boy be working at McDonald's?

Matt cleared his throat, "You two together then?"

"Yeah," Annabeth answered. There was silence again.

"How's Tyson—" Matt didn't even get to finish, seeing Percy's scowl. Sensitive subject?

"He's doing fine," Percy replied in a tone that suggested that they wouldn't pursue that topic any further. Annabeth tugged on Percy's sleeve, whispering something to him. "Look, Matt, I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you around." He didn't sound so hopeful.

Matt simply nodded his head, "Yeah, maybe." But he doubted it. They were from two different worlds. Percy Jackson and him. The kid might not have been smart, but he had done well for himself so far while Matt…well, Matt was Matt.

In all honesty, he was slightly remorseful for having a superior attitude back in middle school. It had gotten him nowhere in life. He was jolted out of his pensive thoughts with his boss's loud booming voice.

"Matt!" he hollered. "Clean up at table three. Some kid puked."

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**So, opinions? Terrible/good? Leave a review below and make sure to fave.**

**I decided to make this just a two-shot since there are plenty of stories out there like this...And I have like no attention span to keep up with my stories.**

**~TJ**


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